


xvii (between the shadow and the soul)

by dorkymish



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alexander Pierce is an asshole, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, M/M, Quidditch Player!Bucky, Romance, Social Justice Warrior!Steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-19 16:46:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7369813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkymish/pseuds/dorkymish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Buck,” Steve says finally, and Bucky’s jaw snaps closed. “How do you feel about it?”</p>
<p>Bucky stares at Steve like he’s grown a second head. “It doesn’t matter how I feel about it,” he says, defensive. He fights down the wave of panic that threatens to spill, alarms ringing that Steve knows— “I don’t want to make you do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>In which Bucky is a Quidditch player on the verge of something amazing, and he has the chance to take a leap with Steve. They're both too clueless to understand what the leap entails.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i - salt-rose

**Author's Note:**

> This started off as a small idea and spiraled into something much larger. As usual, much of this fic I owe to Charlotte, because she's the best.
> 
> Title comes from Sonnet 17 by Pablo Neruda.
> 
> *still in need of a beta reader; all mistakes are my own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started off as a small idea and spiraled into something much larger. As per usual, much of this fic I owe to Charlotte, because she's the greatest.
> 
> Title comes from Sonnet 17 by Pablo Neruda.
> 
> *still in need of a beta reader; all mistakes are my own.

Hogwarts has been home to Bucky Barnes for as long as he can remember.

 

When he was a little boy, his father took him to the grounds to visit his mother, a professor. His earliest memory is of him wandering the hall with his father’s warn, large hand wrapped around his own. It wasn’t long after that, however, that his father gave his life in the Dark Wizarding War. His mother and he were left alone; he too young to fully understand the situation, she struggling to find a way to provide for her son.

 

Let it be known that Headmaster Nicholas J. Fury was nothing if not a sympathetic man. While there were some who would have left this young widow and her son in the could, the Headmaster took sympathy on their losses, and extended Hogwarts to Bucky as a temporary home while his mother taught her students faithfully. He was an infinitely patient man, and though he’d never admit it, he was awfully fond of the young Bucky Barnes.

 

And so it goes, that Bucky grew up with the halls of Hogwarts as his sanctuary; with only one parent, but the support of every professor on staff. It takes a village, he supposed.

 

At four years old, Bucky wandered the endlessly fascinating chambers of Hogwarts clinging to the hand of Professor Erskine, who’s gentle voice taught Bucky more about the history of the school than any dumb old book could have. He was five years old when his mother took him to his very first Quidditch game, immediately enamored by the grace and beauty, and two days later he flew his first broom under the protective guidance of one Professor Stark. Bucky was familiarized with nearly every secret passage in the castle by the time he was eight years old; he knew more about the castle than any student who had been there for years. The house elves became his best friends when he was eight, showing him even more of the wonders the castle held and giving him everything he could ever want for. Every ghost in the castle was wrapped around his finger by the time he was nine, and on his tenth birthday there wasn’t a single student in the school who didn’t know his name. There were even a few first years who tried to help him sneak into classrooms to listen in on the lessons despite the fact he had one year left until it was his time.

 

Oh, how his mother chewed him out for that one.

 

He was unapologetic, though; he would not apologize for his thirst for knowledge and for his desire to be above his class even on the first day.

 

He framed his acceptance letter the day he got it.

 

His summers were spent in a small, rundown cottage in rural Brasov, where he and his mother had relocated following the death of his father. It was on this empty acre plot that Bucky learned an appreciation for Muggle sports, even participating in the games of soccer with the neighborhood boys and girls in the nearest village. He spent his summers counting down the days until he could return to Hogwarts, and following his eleventh birthday he never failed to remind anyone who asked that he was counting down to his first day as a student.

 

He had been insistent, of course, that come that first day in September he ride the Hogwarts Express to the castle instead of Flooing in alongside his mother. She’d shaken her head, fondly, but was happy to take them all the way to London to shop in Diagon Alley before she let him on the train.

 

September 1st consisted mostly of Bucky’s excited shouts and pulls, and Winifred’s tired laughter. He delighted in the wonders of Diagon Alley, cried when he first got his wand, and pleaded his mother to get him the tawny owl who’d followed them out of the shop. When the time came, Winifred finally took her son to Kings Cross, clutching his small hands in her own, and pressed two gentle kisses on either side of his face before letting him go and wishing him a safe ride. He had blushed, in the way that all eleven year old boys do, before clambering excitedly onto the train and waving her goodbye. It was on that fateful train that he very first met Steve Rogers, another first year who was as small as Bucky for their ages, if not smaller.

 

Bucky often thinks that he’s loved Steve for as long as he can remember, too.

 

They were inseparable from the instant Bucky plopped himself down next to Steve, each sharing stories to calm the other’s nerves. Bucky, on the wonders the castle held and how exciting his home was, and Steve, on the wonders of the Muggle world and his life before he’d learned he was a wizard.

 

Even their Sorting into different Houses could not separate these two boys.

 

Steve had gotten a bit of backlash at first, for being a Muggleborn Slytherin, by one mean little bully. Bucky had quietly hexed him with a charm he wasn’t supposed to know, and he’d spent the rest of the day reassuring Steve that the Slytherin house was not the way it had been years before, even if one or two jerks like that bully still remained.

 

There’d been some murmuring when Bucky had been Sorted into Hufflepuff, many professors and students alike having expected that Bucky’s antics and trouble-making attitude would have landed him in Gryffindor. But after his fierce display of loyalty, to a boy in another House no less, there wasn’t a doubt in anyone’s mind that Bucky didn’t belong in Hufflepuff.

 

Steve and Bucky’s strong friendship had a warmth to it, one that appealed to other students as time went on. Another Muggleborn Slytherin quickly joined their little band, a silent young girl named Natasha. Bucky made friends with a Gryffindor boy named Sam after the latter was berated for boasting about his unparalleled flying technique. Even Professor Stark’s boy, Ravenclaw prodigy Tony found his way in and out of their group, bonding with Bucky over time spent in the castle before either of them were truly supposed to be there. Bucky’s roommate Clint eventually made his way in, overcoming his insecurities about his hearing aids and thriving when he had the support of friends. He’d even formed a tentative friendship with a rambunctious group of boys in his House who had made it their personal goal in life to receive as many Howlers as they possibly could. Their little group was close-knit, despite their youth, and it would remain for their entirety at Hogwarts. Bucky loved all of his friends desperately.

 

None, however, did he love as he loved Steve.

 

Steve was fierce, unmatched in everything he did. Bucky admired his wit and his drive, was constantly in awe at Steve’s ability to always be passionate about everything. By Bucky’s second year, he had become the starting Chaser for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. And while his friends came to every game, Steve was always the one who would shed his normal green and silver in favor for yellow and black. There wasn’t a kid in the entire school with as much House Pride as Steve, and yet _every_ game he showed support for Bucky. Steve as a second year was no less scrawny than a year before, but what he lacked in size he made up for with an aggressive passion for social justice. When he’d learned that Bucky was friends with the entirety of the house elves population at Hogwarts, he began campaigning for Elf Rights to be honored at Hogwarts. Steve tore down gender-specific signs on restrooms and charmed the signs to remain that way in his attempt to demand gender-neutral restrooms. He had began organizing House unified events, promoting inter-house relations, and even intervening and helping many students form unexpected friendships. His passion for social justices and politics only got stronger as the years went on.

 

While Bucky spent his career at Hogwarts breaking record after record after record on the Quidditch field and positively excelling in all of his classes, Steve had become the advocate for the school and a legacy by their fifth year. This was the year that Steve managed to shut down the entire campus when he’d caught wind of queer students getting bullied now worse than ever. This was also the year that he came out as bisexual; Bucky came out not long after, along with a spitfire Ravenclaw girl named Peggy. She, of course, was adopted into their small gang of friends not long after that.

 

While the Ministry was hearing Steve Rogers’ name for the first time, Bucky Barnes’ name was being broadcast to nearly every professional Quidditch team as the player to keep an eye out for. His abilities were unparalleled; by the end of his fifth year he had broken every record there was to break and had scored the most points of any Chaser in one season at Hogwarts than had ever been scored before. He got an offer to play professionally for the Romanian Ridgebacks not long after that.

 

Throughout it all, Steve and Bucky remained best friends. Steve was asked to do an interview with the _Daily Prophet_ highlighting his exemplary influence on Hogwarts; Bucky bought thirty-two copies of the paper the day the interview printed. Bucky played his first game with the Ridgebacks the summer after he turned sixteen; Steve bought more of the Bucky Barnes fan merchandise than any other vendor that night.

 

Things began to change their sixth year, but Steve and Bucky remained the same regardless; inseparable, no matter how desperately life tried to pry them apart. Steve’s mother passed away in October of their sixth year, unexpectedly. Clint and Natasha had finally overcome their crippling denial and had began to date. Sam came clean about his Muggle boyfriend back home, a boy named Riley who was preparing to enlist the second he turned eighteen. Tony Stark dropped out mid-December, to the dismay of his friends and his father. The entire school was silenced by the sudden, horrific death of Pietro Maximoff at the hands of a dark wizard. A seventh year werewolf by the name of Bruce lost control one full moon and put several students in the infirmary before he disappeared himself. Some time in February, Headmaster Fury left, replaced temporarily by Professor Coulson who refused to explain where the Headmaster had gone. When Fury returned for the final feast, he worse an eyepatch over one eye and was hardened and changed from the kind man Bucky had grown up knowing. Despite it all, Steve and Bucky remained each other’s rock, silently sticking together despite the things that had been thrown their way. In light of his mother’s death, Steve came to live with Bucky and Winifred in their pitiful little cottage for the summer, attending every practice of Bucky’s that he could when he wasn’t out leading marches and rallies and becoming a strong name in Wizardry Equality And Rights.

 

Bucky remained in love with Steve throughout the entirety as well.

 

Their lives were good, Bucky content with being silently in love with Steve for as long as he could, playing Quidditch for his favorite team and watching Steve thrive at becoming a political leader and advocate for social justice. Things were good, for the most part, when he found himself here two weeks before the start of their seventh year.

 

How angry he is to find that his life is about to be turned upside down.

 

* * *

 

They’re coming home from one of Steve’s rallies on the day Bucky’s world turns on its head. The two are giggling obnoxiously, arms around each other as they lean against the other, wearing pink and purple and blue shirts and chanting one of the rally’s more successful chants. The house is unusually quiet, despite Winifred being the only one home. Bucky and Steve seem to sense the atmosphere and fall silent at the same time.

 

“Ma?” Bucky calls, untangling himself from where he’d been attempting to mess with Steve’s hair.

 

“In here, honey,” she calls, from the living room. Winifred Barnes sits delicately on her couch, quill poised over a scroll from where she was likely planning her lessons for the year. Across from her, sitting on the opposing couch, is an older gentleman wearing a distinguished suit. He stands when Steve and Bucky enter.

 

“James,” the man greets, extending his hand. Bucky eyes him warily. Winifred shoots him a sharp look and he quickly takes the man’s hand. “My name is Alexander Pierce. I take it this is your best pal, Steve Rogers? Great political figure, kid.”

 

Steve clenches his jaw, the same way he does every time someone calls him a kid, and opens his mouth like he’s got something to say. Bucky drops Pierce’s hand to grab Steve’s shoulder warningly. “How can I help you, Mr. Pierce?” Bucky says, trying his damnedest to keep his voice steady. Pierce’s gaze drifts to Winifred, who stands and brushes the front of her dress.

 

“Steve, sweetheart, won’t you come help me make dinner?” she asks with a sidelong glance at Pierce. “Something tells me this conversation is going to be pretty boring to listen to, all those Quidditch politics and such. Will you be joining us for dinner, Mr. Pierce?”

 

Winifred levels Pierce with a look that could make even Headmaster Fury falter. Pierce clears his throat. “I believe James and I will have finished our conversation before then, ma’am.”

 

Winifred nods once, tersely, and slings her arm through Steve’s to nearly drag him out of the living room. Once the door shuts soundly behind them, Bucky immediately turns to Pierce. “What is this about?” he blurts, no preamble. Bucky dealt with men like Pierce last year, before he’d officially signed an agent; he knows his type and what Pierce is likely here to bargain for.

 

Pierce’s smile is thin and ugly and it makes Bucky cringe. “I’m a representative from a small company specializing in public relations. While our name isn’t the most popular, we are the best in the business at what we do. I am here today to offer you our services, and to negotiate the terms of the deal.”

 

“I already have a representative, thank you,” Bucky declines, thinking fondly of Maria Hill and her immaculate transition from professor to agent. Pierce narrows his eyes.

 

“We are well aware of your contract with Madame Hill,” drawls Pierce. “What we have to offer is a service significantly different from hers. We offer a type of PR that merely adds to the _managing_ she does for you. She makes sure your name stays clean; _we_ put your name on the map.”

 

Bucky purses his lips. He rocks on his heels and crosses his arms, wondering where in the hell this guy gets his nerve. “With all due respect, Mr. Pierce, I don’t need my name in any big fancy newspaper for me to be successful. My career speaks for me. As kind as it is to offer what I’m sure you think is… _unsurmountable_ fame, I’m happy with where my life is right now. Not to mention, I graduate this year. I have my studies and schooling I have to keep my focuses on. So, I’m going to have to decline your offer. Sir.”

 

Pierce’s eyes narrow thinly. Bucky knows his type; all-powerful, commandeering, expects to get what he wants right off the bat. Bucky wants nothing to do with him. “With _all due respect_ ,” Pierce repeats, mockingly, “I’m afraid my offer is one that you’d be a fool to turn down. You see, James, my agency is still fairly young. We need a big client to put our names on the map. And _you_ need a PR representative to put _your_ name on the map. That’s why the arrangement I’m proposing is so benefaction; I have the opportunity to take your name and broadcast it around the world. With my agency tied to your name, we’ll build our reputation. You’ll build your fanbase, have a name knocking around in the heads of every professional Quidditch manager. Not to mention the— _indescribable_ amount of way’s that this arrangement can help _Steve’s_ name get out there, which he’ll need what with his budding political career and all—”

 

“Steve?” Bucky says sharply. “What does Steve have to do with any of this?”

 

Pierce has the audacity to appear sheepish. “Did I forget to mention exactly how it is I am going to assist you? My plan, James, is to utilize your relationship with Steve and to manage it so perfectly that it gives us all the success you need.”

 

Bucky clenches his fists, blood boiling. He’s sure his eyes are flashing with panic. “Exactly what kind of _relationship_ are you implying that I have with Steve?” he demands. His entire body is running cold, frozen on the idea that somehow someone found out about how _long_ he’s been in love with his best friend; petrified that this is how his love for Steve is finally going to come back and hurt one of them, as he always suspected it would.

 

“I don’t care about the relationship you have now,” Pierce says dismissively. “I care about the relationship you’re _going_ to have, once you hand it over to me. With my help, I can take a relationship between two thriving, successful young men and make it beneficial to an entire fleet of people. “

 

“What are you _saying_?” Bucky snaps.

 

Pierce sighs, long and drawn out, and settles himself back onto Bucky’s couch. He looks odd, sitting on Winifred’s homey couch, in his stark business suit and oily aura. “For one who is supposed to be at the top of his class at the best wizardly school in the world, you aren’t very bright,” Pierce says scathingly. Bucky glares at him. “I’m proposing that you sign me onto your contract. I promote your name in all the right ways. I make you so successful that you’ll have team after team knocking down your door with offers. There won’t be a kid in the world who doesn’t know your name. That’s what every Quidditch star wants, isn’t it? To be a hero to some small kid with a broom and a vivid imagination? That was Chester Phillips for you, wasn’t it?”

 

Bucky stiffens.

 

“All you gotta do, kid, is trust me,” Pierce continues, waving his hand. “Trust in me and trust in my decisions and I’ll make you a success. God, I’ll make all of us successes! Even your best pal Steve. That’s what you want, isn’t it? For your _best pal_ to be successful?”

There isn’t a doubt in Bucky’s mind, now, that Pierce isn’t aware of his feelings for Steve.

 

“I have a way to do that,” Pierce is saying, whispering now, as if he’s figured out the secret to the universe. “All it takes is a little nudge on your part; or, perhaps, a bit more than a nudge. I’m gonna give you the statistics. Famous people who are in known relationships are eighty-seven percent more successful than famous people who aren’t. Of that eighty-seven percent, seventy percent are more successful if their partner is also a big name as well. Essentially, the media loves famous people dating other famous people. You’re on your way to being a famous person, kid. Same way your pal Steve is. All I am doing is offering to get you both there faster.”

 

Bucky takes a step forward, jabbing a finger angrily at Pierce’s face. “If you’re suggesting that I date Steve just so that we can both get more famous, you are seriously overestimating how much success means to me,” Bucky snarls. “I will not _lie_ to my best friend about how I feel about him, I will not _trick_ him into dating me so that we can become a goddamn statistic. Steve is a good guy, and he’s going to advance in his political career without some empty fucking threat hanging over his head and without his best friend manipulating his emotions!”

 

Pierce remains calm, stares at Bucky until Bucky huffs in fury and crosses his arms.

 

“I won’t do it,” Bucky says decisively.

 

“You will,” Pierce counters, still sounding calm. “The fact of the matter is, this is the best publicity you could ever get. Steve is an activist in the LBGT community right now. If his relationship with another man were to go public, it would only boost his appeal. Not to mention, the man in question is a successful athlete, a predominately masculine sport. This athlete, who has also identified as bisexual, is the brightest of his class and led the Ridgebacks to their most successful season since 1976. In his _first_ season alone! Your name tied to Steve would put the spotlight on you; more people would tune in to watch the young star Chaser who’s pretty boyfriend is one of the most up-and-coming names in social politics. And Steve’s name would blow up on social media with the announcement of his relationship with successful Quidditch star Bucky Barnes. More people would keep an eye on him to see just what it is he does to manage to snag such a man as the youngest player the Ridgebacks have ever picked up. And with your success, and my name on your contract, well. I think my successes after that are self-explanatory.”

 

Bucky _hates_ that it makes sense. He _hates_ that Pierce has presented him with an argument that he knows is logical. He has a chance to make Steve’s name successful, to give Steve a chance outside of his successes in Hogwarts and to help him become the youngest Minister of Magic, like he’s always wanted. He hates that he wants nothing more than to agree, because selfishly dating Steve is all he’s ever wanted.

 

“No,” he says resolutely. “The answer is no. I won’t do it.”

 

“You will,” Pierce repeats. “You will because this is the last year your mother is working for Hogwarts.”

 

The entire world stops spinning for an instant.

 

“She doesn’t know it yet,” Pierce continues idly, picking at a thread on his suit. He frowns.  Bucky’s trembling, trying to find purchase on a ground that’s collapsing underneath him. In an instant, all his white hot rage was knocked out of him and replaced by an icy fear. “Hell, no one knows it yet. But the Ministry isn’t happy with Headmaster Fury abandoning his post last year and not providing an explanation. They want him out. When the regime change, they’re cutting professors, too. It’s called Project Insight, an attempt to better involve the students with teachers who better understand the material. Your mom didn’t make the cut. After this year, she’ll be without a job, and she’ll have no steady income. Do you make enough right now, James, to provide for both yourself and your mother when that time comes?”

 

Bucky trembles. “You want this so desperately,” he murmurs, “that you would cause an innocent woman to lose her job, just to get me to say yes?”

 

Pierce smiles wickedly, standing once again and holding out a business card. “That’s the way the game is played, son. That’s my contact information for when you decide you’re in. I’d hate to see your poor mother have to give up your… _homely_ shack. It’s all she has left of your father, you know, since she lost him when the Dark Wizards attacked. I’m afraid I must go now, James. I trust in you to make the right decision.”

 

Bucky’s entire body is frozen where he stands. He knows he needs to accept the card Pierce is handing him, that his mother’s life is going to be ruined if he doesn’t do this. But he cannot find the will to move. Pierce seems to understand, though, and just places the card on the table before absently patting Bucky’s shoulder as he makes his move to leave. Bucky flinches at the contact.

 

“Wait,” he’s finally able to croak out, and Pierce hesitates at the door. “ _If_ I agree to do this, I’m not lying to Steve. He’ll know everything. I refuse to keep him out of this.”

 

Pierce sends him one more spine-tingling, cold smile. “James,” he says patiently. “Would you _really_ be lying to the boy if you told him how you felt?”

 

* * *

 

Steve approaches him later, after dinner, when Winifred has excused herself to her room to finish finalizing her lesson plans. Bucky had been trying to avoid Steve as much as possible; clearly, Steve had caught on to his ploys.

 

“Buck,” Steve says softly, sitting next to Bucky on the worn out couch. Bucky winces, realizing now how confused Steve must be as to why Bucky was distant during dinner. “You told your mom that all Alexander Pierce had wanted was to be your agent and manager. But you told him that he couldn’t be, because Maria Hill was. Is that really all that happened? I just…you seem put off.”

 

“Nah,” Bucky tries to say. “I’m doin’ just fine, Stevie.”

 

Steve stares at him, hard. “I may look like a twelve year old, Bucky, but I sure as hell ain’t as gullible as one.”

 

Bucky clenches his jaw. “Come outside with me?” he whispers, eyes flickering to Winifred’s bedroom door. Steve glances over too, and nods, slowly standing and leaning on Bucky as they quietly make their way out the front where they plant themselves on the front steps.

 

“So what happened?” Steve asks. “What did he do?”

 

“ _Nothing_ ,” Bucky insists. “He tried to get me to sign him on, I told him to go to hell. He—made me an offer, I don’t know—”

 

“What kind of offer?” demands Steve. “A business offer? Money? Did he— _jesus_ , Bucky, did he _proposition_ you? Is that the kind of offer? Oh my god, that’s against so many codes, I could get him _fired_ just for even thinking about it, you’re a _minor_ —”

 

“Steve,” Bucky says desperately, trying to get him to stop.

 

Steve makes a horrified face. “Bucky, did he offer you his services if you…if…if you— _serviced_ him?! That’s so illegal, that violates so many laws. I could break his jaw for suggesting it, for even thinking it. Oh my god he’s a dirty old man, god, Bucky, we should have him fired. Whatever he offered you, god, please tell me you said no—”

 

“Steve,” Bucky shouts. “He want you to _date_ me.”

 

Steve blinks once, twice. It’s the longest moment of Bucky’s life.

 

“Pierce says it would be— _beneficial_ to my career, if I was in a relationship. The fans will eat it up or something, I don’t know,” Bucky continues, babbling at this point. Steve continues to stare at him blankly. “He says that it could be, um, mutually beneficial for everyone. It would get your name out there more, if it was tied to the youngest player the Ridgebacks have ever picked up. Plus, it’s advocating for LBGT Rights, having a successful queer couple be a big name in two completely different fields. I guess. Um. Pierce says this could be really good for the reputation of the Ridgebacks, and could possibly guarantee me better offers down the road. He thinks we could fake it, since we’ve been best friends for so long and all. That no one would be surprised. Best friends to lovers, it would be a goddamn headliner—”

 

“Buck,” Steve says finally, and Bucky’s jaw snaps closed. “How do you feel about it?”

 

Bucky stares at Steve like he’s grown a second head. “It doesn’t matter how I feel about it,” he says, defensive. He fights down the wave of panic that threatens to spill, alarms ringing that Steve knows, he knows— “I don’t want to make you do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

 

Steve looks exasperated. “Buck,” he says, like Bucky is the dumbest guy he’s ever talked to. Bucky has a flickering thought that Steve would not be wrong there. “We’ve been best friends for, what, six years now? I think I can tolerate you. A little media to push forward our careers might not be a bad thing. We _are_ entering the work field next year, it’d be good to at least have _some_ sort of edge against the others. But I don’t care about the politics of it. How do you feel about it?”

 

Bucky’s jaw opens and closes uselessly a few times. He’s done some pretty fucked up shit with Steve in the past, because it was _Steve_ , but he thinks agreeing to this may juts be the worst thing he’s ever done. He’s been head over heels in love Steve since second year, when Steve had hexed the robes of all Slytherin students to flicker yellow and black at Quidditch games when the students weren’t paying attention. Even as a scrawny little second year, Steve had as much house pride as any of the older kids; unfortunately, his pride for Bucky was stronger.

 

Bucky’s dreamt about dating Steve for so, so long. He’d never imagined that it would be like this; fake, a secret, a political move to advance them in separate fields—an act that could separate them. On one hand, Bucky couldn’t bear to say yes and risk the chance that he lose Steve forever over unrequited feelings. The risk was there; Bucky would fall even harder for Steve in an atmosphere where they were required to act like they were in love, and Steve would confess that he was doing it only for the political gain. Bucky wouldn’t be able to bear the rejection once they publicly ‘broke up’. On the other hand, this was a chance to be with Steve in a way he feared he’d never get the chance to again. He could try and actually woo Steve, to use this time to make Steve fall in love with him, and the results could be—

 

Bucky tried not to think too hard about that.

 

Eventually, with a slight tremor in his voice, Bucky offered Steve the most timid smile. “You’re my best friend, Stevie. If they’re gonna make me do this, no one else I’d rather have but you.”

 

The grin that crosses Steve’s face is nearly wide enough to split it, blinding and bright and drawing Bucky in without hesitation. He wonders why Steve is so enthusiastic about this; Bucky himself has a heavy ball of lead settling deep in his stomach, heavy and taunting and painful. “Man, I can’t _wait_ to tell everyone we’re dating,” Steve laughs, and Bucky’s heart sinks slightly. He’s used to Steve taking things lightly, everything being a joke; he supposes he was foolish to expect Steve to take this anymore seriously.

 

It dawns on him that Steve doesn’t know that Pierce threatened Winifred. Bucky supposes that’s why he’s so nauseous about the entire thing. Bucky decides, rapidly, that he isn’t going to mention the threat hanging above his family; that if he and Steve are going to do this, Steve will _never_ know that Winifred was threatened.

 

Steve presses a sloppy kiss to Bucky’s cheek and laughs again, while Bucky tries his damnedest not to have a heart attack.

 

_God_. He’s not going to survive this.

 

* * *

 

They meet Pierce in his office the next day.

 

“Steven,” he says warmly. “James. I’m so glad you fellas decided to meet with me today. We have a lot to discuss…that is, if James here has reached a decision?”

 

Bucky clenches his jaw. Steve seems to notice Bucky’s tense attitude, so he slips his hand into Bucky’s and squeezes reassuringly. Bucky absolutely does _not_ have a heart attack at the contact. “I think my presence here has made it very clear that Bucky has decided to agree to your terms,” Steve says defiantly. Bucky’s heart swells.

 

“Steve and I have decided to go along with your plan,” Bucky hastily adds. “We will… We’ll _pretend_ to date and you can assist us in publicizing our, um, relationship.”

 

Pierce’s smile is too cold and snakelike to be considered genuine. “Excellent!” he booms, clapping his hands together. “If that’s the case, then we have much to discuss. Contracts to fill out and all that. I took the liberty of contacting Miss Hill and asking her to join us; I do want to make sure she’s as included in this process as the rest of us. Outside of myself, Miss Hill, James and Steven, however, are there any others you find it necessary to be informed of the validity of this relationship?”

 

Steve looks overwhelmed. Bucky can tell he’s stressed by the tight line of Steve’s shoulders. With their fingers still intertwined, he gives Steve’s hand a gentle squeeze, and Steve looks at him like he’s been grounded again.

 

“I think that it should be safe between the four of us,” Bucky says decisively. The less people he has to explain this to, the better. He doesn’t have _any_ idea how he would go about justifying his decision to do this without confessing the secret he’s held close for so many years.

 

Steve sucks in a sharp breath. “Are you…” he falters. “Are you _sure_ you don’t want to tell your mom about…?”

 

“No,” Bucky yelps sharply. Steve gives him a startled look. “No. It would… No, it’s best if she doesn’t know. I don’t want to disappoint her.”

 

Steve purses his lips and stares forward, hard. His hand is clenched around Bucky’s now.

 

Maria comes in a few minutes of tense silence later, while Pierce tinkered around with paperwork. Her presence is cool, collected, and it terrifies Bucky when she comes sweeping in and takes in his appearance and his and Steve’s intertwined fingers with cold precision. “Bucky,” she says, and it sounds warm despite the fact that Maria Hill helped raise Bucky, and he _knows_ that’s her voice before she chews someone out. “Steve. And Mr. Pierce. I’m sorry for the delay, I was handling a discrepancy at the school.”

 

“Hope everything is well,” Pierce says dully. Bucky sincerely doubts Pierce has any hopes for the school at all. “I’ve taken initiative to draft up an initial contract regarding this arrangement. It is too risky to include the agreement about the falsity of the relationship we’re fabricating, so all the contract lines out is the basic powers I’ll have as James’ PR assistant. These are as adaptable as you need them to be, Miss Hill, I don’t want to derive from your power at all. There is a small clause mentioning my handling of James’ personal relationships, but never does it mention Steve or the fabrication of any relationship at any time. We simply don’t want a paper trail to incriminate us and harm James’ reputation.”

 

Maria holds out a hand, and Pierce wastes no time handing her his initial draft. Bucky drags Steve to a couch, sitting them down messily. Maria and Pierce murmur at the desk while Steve and Bucky watch on, in awe at Maria’s collectiveness and her precision.

 

“She’s good,” Bucky whispers.

 

“That’s why you hired her,” Steve hums back, amused. He glances at Bucky and frowns. “Stop doing that.”

 

Bucky startles. “Doing what?” he breathes.

 

Steve’s gaze drops to Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky’s heart rate increases to what he’s sure is a thousand beats per second. “You’re biting your nails,” Steve says gently, and _oh_. Bucky’s thumb is near his face, nail bitten to a snub, along with most of the other nails on his hand. He frowns at his hand, surprised.

 

His heart rate slows down, until Steve giggles quietly and squeezes Bucky’s hand again.

 

_Shit_. Bucky’d forgotten they were still holding hands.

 

He tries not to think about it too hard.

 

( _he fails_ )

 

It’s incredibly boring, sitting on the couch while Pierce and Maria bicker over the desk. She has a red pen in her hand now, writing all over the documents and shaking her head a lot. Steve is pressed right up against him, a warm and solid weight. They try to keep quiet for a while, but eventually Steve leans over and, in a horrible impression of Pierce’s voice, whispers, “I’m sorry, Maria, but my spray tanning appointments _must_ be included in this contract; it’s only right I get reimbursed for them since they make me look so damn nice and I’m a PR guy.”

 

Bucky giggles for a good fifteen seconds before he’s able to whisper back, in _his_ best impression of Maria, “Pierce, darling, I don’t think those spray tanning appointments are doing what you think they are for you. It’s not a _good_ image you’re putting out there.”

 

Steve knocks his shoulder against Bucky’s. “Maria, Maria, Maria, clearly you are blind, look at how the spray tan has retained the glow of my youth on my old, crinkly skin!” Steve whispers conspiringly. Bucky has to bite his lip to stop the loud laugh that threatens to burst out.

 

“There comes a certain age where every man goes through this sort of thing, Mr. Pierce,” Bucky murmurs back. “It’s called a _midlife crisis_ , though yours may be a few years late, but—oh, don’t look so worried, Mr. Pierce, it’s something all men go through.”

 

Bucky could live off of the smile that crosses Steve’s face in that instant for the rest of his life.

 

Maria straightens suddenly, about twenty minutes later, shoots Bucky and Steve a sharp look. They immediately freeze from where they’d been giggling and shoving each other, still trying to play their little game and failing considerably. She narrows her eyes at Bucky. “Thank you for your time, Pierce,” she says, turning back to him and giving him her most charming smile. “I believe we’ve come to an agreement regarding the terms. I do think it’s best that we hold off on introducing you as a part of our team until a few weeks from now, after we’ve established the relationship between Steve and Bucky here. That way, we avoid any, um, speculation about the timing of the relationship and the contract.”

 

Pierce’s mouth is a thin line. “I agree,” he says tightly, though he looks like he wants to argue. “That is the best way to avoid any rumor. Now that we’ve gotten the legal stuff out of the way, shall we discuss the terms of this relationship?”

 

Steve stands at this point, dragging Bucky back to the desk and sitting them down at the chairs. He has to let go of Steve’s hand, now; he tries not to mourn the loss of contact too much.

 

“I will orchestrate your first public date,” Pierce begins. “Everything will be paid for by me, though it’ll be under the guise of either of you. I’ll hire someone to follow you, briefly, to snap a few photographs of your date that we can release to the press. We’ll let the rumors circulate for about a week, before Maria here organizes a public interview for James to announce his new relationship with Steve. I’ll leave you two to work out the details of what made you decide to finally go out, and what you’d like to do for your date. In a few weeks, I’ll sign on to your contract publicly.”

 

“That sounds reasonable,” Bucky says, because Steve is starting to look overwhelmed again. “How long do you expect us to stay in this relationship?”

 

Pierce glances between the two of them. “Longer relationships are proven more beneficial to the rise of popularity,” he hedges. “I’m proposing an eighteen-month contract between the two of you.”

 

“Eighteen _months_?” Steve explodes, lurching to his feet. His eyes are wild but he looks so startled and overwhelmed. Bucky immediately reaches up to console him. “You want us to fake a relationship for _eighteen months_. Jesus, Buck, I thought this was going to be a few dates, a few outings, not eighteen _goddamn_ months!”

 

Bucky tries not to be too stung at how outraged Steve is. “Can we work for a shorter arrangement?” Bucky snaps. Steve turns to look at him.

 

“Buck,” he says; it sounds pained. “I don’t wanna force you to be hitched to be for eighteen goddamn months. You got a life outside of me, you know? People…want you.”

 

“ _What_?” Bucky hisses, staring up at Steve in alarm. “You’re seriously worried about me stickin’ by your side for eighteen months ‘cause you think I’m gonna want someone else?”

He freezes instantly, realizing too late the road he’d started to take. Steve looks surprised as well, but he snaps his jaw shut so Bucky forges on. “Pal, I already planned on keepin’ you in my life for a considerable amount of time. You’re kind of my best friend, you punk. If I’m spending eighteen months of the rest of my life doing something that’s gonna help the both of us, I don’t care if it’s eighteen months.”

 

Steve’s working a muscle in his jaw, looking like he wants to argue. “I’ll agree to eighteen months,” he says finally. “But one condition. If for whatever reason Bucky finds someone else that he wants to go after, the relationship is terminated. He has the right to be with someone he wants to be with.”

 

_Tough luck finding someone who ain’t you, pal_ , Bucky thinks dryly.

 

“Same goes for Steve,” he adds on, because there’s no way in hell he’s hitching his wagon to Steve for eighteen months and dragging Steve down when he has the chance to be happy. Steve snorts. 

 

But Pierce agrees.

 

Bucky’s numb throughout the rest of the meeting.

 

* * *

 

Their first “date” is orchestrated by Pierce, and Bucky should be a lot more bitter about it than he is.

 

They go to a nice dinner, holding hands across the table and smiling stupidly at each other. Steve turns out to be _really_ good at pretending to be in love. Bucky whispers under his breath that he should take up acting, and Steve throws a piece of bread at his face. For what it’s worth, Bucky swallows his fears and plays his role of Starstruck Boy on First Date #2 exceptionally well, relishing in the way he’s able to turn Steve’s cheeks a faint scarlet. Their waitress coos at them, calls them a cute couple, and even brings them out free ice cream to celebrate their first date.

 

Bucky supposes he could get used to this.

 

Steve’s hand is warm in his own, a solid and constant weight, and Bucky is soaring off of the feel of it. They go for a stroll after their dinner, another suggestion by Pierce ( _“give my guy a chance to get some more photos of you; the sooner we can get this rumor started, the better off we’ll all be”_ ) but the weather is nice and it isn’t as awkward as Bucky expected.

 

He learns, so far, that dating Steve is a lot like being best friends with Steve, only with hand holding and lingering touches and the ability to not hide his prolonged staring.

 

They’re still holding hands as they walk, which is a little weird when they start ribbing each other as they always do and try to knock shoulders. It comes in handy when Bucky pushes a little too much when Steve’s a little off balance; Steve stumbles and Bucky is able to steady him with a tight grip on his hand. Steve’s grin is worth the world.

 

“Nice catch, jerk,” Steve teases, but he squeezes Bucky’s hand and it feels like flying again. Bucky smiles so wide it nearly splits his face.

 

“I’ll always catch you when you fall, babe,” Bucky says back, shamelessly flirting. His heart is beating a staccato in his chest at this point; it hasn’t slowed for a beat since Steve first shyly opened his bedroom door and stepped out wearing an outfit Bucky could only describe as an attempt on Bucky’s life. The jeans were a bit snug, though Bucky couldn’t exactly judge since he too had chosen his tightest pair of pants, but it was the goddamn sweater that made his throat go dry. Dark maroon and looking soft to the touch, with a black collared button up peeking up from the neckline. It was a little large on Steve, whose frame was already small to begin with, but it had done wonders for Bucky.

 

He’d known from that instant that he was shot to hell no matter how this turned out. He found himself unable to care, though, walking down an empty street in Bucharest, holding hands and sharing bright smiles and laughing the way they always do.

 

Bucky could _definitely_ get used to this.

 

They eventually wander into a playground, and Bucky touches the metal bars with reverence. “I never really got to play on these, you know,” he confesses. Steve looks at him, face so wide and open and accepting through it all. “That’s what I got for being raised in the halls of Hogwarts. I wouldn’t trade my experiences for the world. Hell, I’d trade a thousand playgrounds for one corridor at school. But I always wondered what it was like to play on the bars with the other kids my age.”

 

Steve gives him a small grin. “I was a sick kid, you know? Spent a lot of my days in the hospital or in bed or walking around sick.” Bucky _did_ know. He worried about Steve’s health _to this day_. “Ma never really let me go out on the playgrounds. Didn’t want me getting hurt, didn’t want me getting the other kids sick. I understood it, I really did. Didn’t make it any easier to see all the kids my age screaming and laughing and chasing each other across the playground.”

 

Bucky smiles wickedly. “Race you to the swings,” he challenges, taking off before Steve even has time to react. He laughs when Steve shouts after him, but he’s merciless as he runs to the swings and dives for the first one. Steve’s lugging behind him, a little out of breath, hair in disarray. Bucky tries really hard not to stare too hard. “Beat your sorry ass.”

 

“My ass has _asthma_ ,” Steve whines. “You’re a dirty rotten cheater, you jerk. Jesus, why did I agree to date you?”

 

Bucky knows that Steve’s joking, he _knows_ that Steve is saying that about their arrangement; it doesn’t stop his entire body from filling with butterflies at the notion of _dating Steve_. So he just gives Steve his best grin and says, “Baby, you couldn’t resist my charm even if you’d tried.”

 

The smile Steve returns is enough to keep Bucky warm for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

He gets a Howler the very next day.

 

Bucky sighs loudly as he enters his and Steve’s room, seeing the red envelope on his bed and cringing internally. He knows it’s just going to go off regardless of whether or not he opens it. Bucky gingerly sits down on the bed and tears open the Howler. It wastes no time, and soon the voices of his loud, boisterous friends are filling his room.

 

**“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST ON A STICK BARNES WHEN THE HELL DID YOU AND STEVE START DATING AND OH MY GOD WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US—”**

**“WE HAD TO FIND OUT FROM A TRASH MAG YOU ABSOLUTE PIECE OF SHIT.”**

**“ _T’AS PAS DE COUILLES,_ BARNES, _T’ES RIEN QU’UN PETIT CONNARD_ —”**

**“ _JESUS_ , FRENCH, SHUT UP FOR LIKE EIGHT SECONDS, ALL OF YOU SHUT UP OH MY GOD—BARNES, YOU WANKER, I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY WITH YOURSELF. I MEAN I’M SURE YOU ARE IF YOU’RE FUCKING STEVE ROGERS WHICH HAS BEEN YOUR DREAM SINCE LIKE _EVER_ DON’T TRY TO FUCKING LIE, I’VE SEEN YOU GUYS EYE-FUCKING. YOU ARE A RIGHT BASTARD THOUGH, NOT TELLING US.”**

**“HE’S PROBABLY TOO BUSY SUCKING STEVE’S DICK TO HAVE TIME TO TELL HIS BEST FRIENDS, RIGHT ACE?!”**

**“OH, SWEET LORD MONTY _FUCK OFF_. ALL OF YOU SHUT THE HELL UP, I’M BERATING OUR BOY. BARNES, STOP SUCKING STEVE’S DICK FOR LONG ENOUGH TO ACTUALLY TALK TO YOUR BEST FRIENDS, YOU ASS. IF WE HAVE TO HEAR ABOUT BIG EVENTS IN YOUR LIFE FROM ONE MORE GODDAMN PAPER, I WILL PERSONALLY APPARATE FROM WALES TO YOUR LITTLE RUNDOWN SHACK IN BUMFUCK ROMANIA AND KICK YOUR FAMOUS ATHLETE ASS. FUCK YOU, MATE.”**

**“BUT CONGRATS, MAN, SERIOUSLY, WE’RE HAPPY FOR YOU AND STEVE.”**

**“ _ALL OF YOU ARE RIGHT WANKERS SHUT THE HELL—_ HAVE A GOOD REST OF YOUR DAY, BUCK, HOWLIES OUT.”**

 

There was a reason that their rag-tag gang of Hufflepuffs were referred to as the Howling Commandos; not a week went by that one of them didn’t receive a Howler, whether from a parent or from another Howlie. They’d sort of adopted Bucky back in third year, even skeptically letting Steve in. Of course, they stopped being skeptical of Steve the week that he received six Howlers in a row from his furious mother back in Ireland.

 

The Howler destroyed itself, and Bucky laughed for a solid ten minutes before the panic began to set in. If the Howlies had caught word of him and Steve ‘dating’, only one day since they’d agreed to the whole fucked up situation, then—

 

“Hey, Buck?”

 

_Fuck_.

 

“Yeah, Stevie,” Bucky croaks out. Steve barges into their room, phone clenched in one hand and eyes wide. His expression falters when he notices the shredded Howler on Bucky’s bed.

 

“Who’d you get a Howler from?” he asks, and Bucky looks at him like he’s an idiot. “ _Okay_ , but like which Howlie? Or all of them—shit, all of them? What did you do now?”

 

Bucky winces. “I didn’t tell them we were _shacking up_.”

 

Steve’s face cracks into a grin. “Aw, Buck,” he says affectionately. Bucky throws a pillow at his stupid face. “Does that mean I can expect one within the next two hours? Wait, not the point, I came in here for a reason. They exposed us, or whatever. They ran about three different pieces on our newfound relationship. I have three messages from furious people. Tony, Sam, and Natasha, respectively. Thought you might want to hear them.”

 

He leans against the door-frame, looking entirely at ease, and presses a button on his phone.

 

_“STEVENGRANTROGERS if I weren’t so damn happy for you and the Quidditch prodigy I would personally rip you apart limb by limb for not telling me you two finally got together. Oh, my god, can I be the best man at your wedding? Don’t answer that, I already know the answer. I’m thinking something next fall, after graduation? Autumn colors work really well with my complexion. Honestly though, Steven, I’m furious with you for not telling me, your very best friend in the entire earth. Don’t try to bullshit me and tell me Bucky is your best friend, because you don’t get to call him your best friend_ and _fuck him. That’s not fair, give the rest of us a chance. Part of me hopes you choke on Bucky’s dick, because seriously asshole I know I dropped out but you’re supposed to keep me updated on your life. But the other part of me is overwhelmingly happy for you. It’s disgusting. Mazel tov, assholes.”_

 

Bucky thinks he might be dead. “Oh, my god,” he chokes out. Steve’s face is bright red from laughing. “ _Tony_.”

 

Steve plays the message from Sam next. Bucky doesn’t even have time to _breathe_.

 

“ _Okay, so, like, I’m sitting here minding my own business, Ma is pilin’ more potatoes on my plate, when suddenly my Pa comes in and starts askin’ if I knew the new star of the Ridgebacks was gay, right? Like, who didn’t know. So I’m all, ‘Pa, why do you care suddenly?’ and Pa just sort of. Throws this trash mag at my head. And what do I learn from this trash mag? That my two best pals, who I have only gone three days without speaking to at this point, are dating. Like, what the fuck? I mean, I could psychoanalyze every angle of this like there’s no tomorrow but I still would not be able to pinpoint why the actual sweet hell you thought you could get away with not telling me. You owe me an explanation, you asshole. Like, congrats and all, but really dude?”_

 

Bucky is in physical pain; his eyes are watering. Steve is practically shaking the entire cottage next to him with his laughter. Bucky thinks that they might be insane, the way they’re reacting. But he feels lighter than he has since he agreed to this whole ordeal, and he’s starting to think that their friend’s anger might be worth it if he gets to giggle with Steve.

 

Steve presses play on Natasha’s message.

 

“ _Steve_. _And Bucky, I suppose, since I know he’ll show you this, too. Word on the street is you boys are dating. I expect an answer on how much I should believe that rumor before tomorrow afternoon. If you fellas can wrangle yourselves apart for that long.”_

 

Bucky can’t stop the hysteric giggle that bursts through his lips. “She _terrifies_ me,” he admits, and Steve throws his head back in laughter. Her message is short, and it _sounds_ warm, but Bucky knows that Natasha is likely planning the best way to hurt them in their sleep for keeping this secret.

 

“Natasha is one scary motherfucker,” he agrees. He wipes a stray tear from the corner of his eye. “God, I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time. If I had known our friends were gonna react like this, I would have suggested this _forever_ ago.”

 

Bucky’s heart does this strange flopping thing and promptly jumps into his throat. “Yeah,” he chokes out around it, and a sort of hysteric giggle makes its way through him. “Man, I wish you  could have heard what the Howlies had to say.”

 

Steve makes a face. He comes into the room more and climbs up on Bucky’s bed, wrapping his knobby arms around his legs and resting his chin on his knees. “I get the feeling I’ll know soon enough. They didn’t earn the title _‘Howling Commandos_ ’ by sending out only one Howler when they could send out many.”

 

“A Howlie’s favorite pastime is screaming,” Bucky agrees, quoting their most used catch phrase. His face turns horrified in a millisecond. “Dear god, I _just_ realized that catchphrase is so much dirtier than it’s supposed to be. Oh my _god_.”

 

Steve is giggling on Bucky’s bed, looking like he’s near falling over. Bucky’s heart seizes again. When Steve’s giggles finally subside, all that remains is two boys sitting on a bed, facing each other, faces soft and gazes warm, and the bitter reminder to one boy that this is everything he knows he can’t have. The realization doesn’t stop him from looking fondly on at his best friend, whose smile is bright enough to light the world.

 

They’re still smiling at each other when Winifred calls them to dinner.


	2. ii - arrow of carnations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this is late. I blame my procrastination on excellent stucky pics that needed reading.

Hogwarts Express is an entirely different experience when you’re in a relationship with your best friend of six years.

 

Bucky and Steve hold hands throughout the entirety of boarding the train and settling in, partly to keep up images but partly because Bucky is terrified of the second years who approach him and coo over his relationship like they know exactly who he is. Steve’s incredibly charming to the younger ones, incredibly snarky to their friends, and he handles the whole situation so well that Bucky’s heart can’t help but swell.

 

Natasha appears the moment they find an empty compartment. One second the doorway is clear, and in the next, she has swiftly settled herself against the glass, arms folded and expression expectant. “Hello, boys,” she says coolly. Clint settles in next to her, much less gracefully, and even Sam flanks her, staring them down unamused.

 

Bucky clings to Steve’s hand like its his life line.

 

“Hey, guys,” Steve says, like the weight of their friends’ opinions aren’t weighing the both of them down. He squeezes Bucky’s hand tightly. It occurs to Bucky, briefly, that Steve may be just as nervous about this as he is.

 

“You got something you want to tell us?” Sam asks casually. It’s clear that they aren’t going to get to their compartment until they come clean, so Bucky sighs and gestures pointlessly to himself and Steve.

 

“We pulled our heads out of our asses a few weeks ago, realized we wanted to be together, slept on it to make absolutely sure it was what we wanted, decided to give it a try,” Bucky tells them. “Figured the media would catch wind of it soon enough, so we took our chances with a public first date. You know the rest.”

 

Natasha holds up her hand. “And the whole, you know, not telling your best friends about it thing? What was that about?”

 

Steve shifts restlessly. “It’s stupid, but we had to be sure before we told you guys,” he says lamely. It’s their best excuse. “If it wasn’t gonna work, we didn’t want it to divide our group. So we kept our traps shut.”

 

“That sounds like bullshit,” Clint declares. “And I can’t even hear it properly. So you guys are shitty liars.”

 

Steve sputters.

 

“You know what I think?” Sam pipes in. “I think that the both of you were too busy sticking your tongues down each others’ throats to realize you had friends to keep in mind. And when you realized we’d be mad as hell, you came up with some bullshit excuse that even Clint can see through, which is pretty impressive because Clint isn’t the smartest.”

 

Clint says, “I can read your lips, asshole.”

 

Bucky says, “Fuck you, Wilson.”

 

Natasha lets them into the compartment. She and Clint appropriate one side instantly, occupying more space than two people intertwined should be able to occupy, and Sam looks from the empty side to Steve and Bucky. He sighs dramatically. “I hate all of you,” he tells them, “and I miss my boyfriend and I’m not fifth-wheeling with you in this compartment that can’t fit us all anyway. So fuck the lot of you, I’m going to sit somewhere else.”

 

Steve and Bucky happily fill the empty spot. The second they are seated, Steve kicks off his shoes and shifts in his seat until he’s able to shove his toes between Bucky’s thigh and the seat. Bucky rests his arms along the top of the bench and tangles his fingers in Steve’s hair.

 

It’s…different.

 

They’ve been like this, before on the train rides, inseparable always attached somewhere. But in a way, they’ve never been like this before. Steve leans into Bucky’s touch, humming slightly, and Bucky’s playing with Steve’s hair more gently than he ever has in the past. It’s nice. The approving looks he gets from Natasha and Clint prove his thoughts that something has changed. It’s nice, in a compartment with their friends who are also hopelessly intertwined, disgustingly cute, to feel as though he’s part of a happy couple with happy couple friends.

 

Bucky could deal with eighteen months of this feeling.

 

“So what’s the real reason you didn’t tell us?” Natasha asks, signing for Clint since he can’t see her face. Clint adjusts his hearing aids and grabs both of Natasha’s hands with his own.

 

“I told you,” Steve mutters. “We didn’t want things to be awkward if we split.”

 

Clint looks unimpressed. “You two sure think you’re the whole foundation of our little band of misfits, don’t you?”

 

Bucky huffs. “Fine, you want the truth?” he blurts. Steve shoots him a panicked look; they hadn’t discussed an alternate truth. Bucky’s playing this game entirely by himself. “The truth is I’ve been over the moon for Steve for too damn long, and the second I found out he felt the same way I was too damn happy to focus on anything but him. So yeah, I forgot to mention to you guys that me and Stevie got together, but you gotta realize I’d been waiting for this for a while and I couldn’t waste one more damn second.”

 

He can’t look at Steve, he _can’t_ , because he can’t bear the idea of looking at Steve and seeing his expression. Instead, he stares at the empty space above Clint’s head, jaw clenched, and he continues to card his fingers through Steve’s hair.

 

“Buck,” Steve says, and he sounds absolutely _wrecked_. Bucky startles when he feels Steve’s fingers on his jawline, tugging his gaze towards Steve. “I know. Me, too. I _know_.”

 

Bucky swallows thickly. He’s sure Steve can feel it, the way his jaw moves, underneath Steve’s gentle fingertips. He wasn’t expecting this, Steve and his soft touch and his soft gaze, making Bucky’s heart beat a staccato he’d never felt before. It was…nice.

 

He would take eighteen months of this, of Steve, if it was like this.

 

Steve’s still smiling brightly at him, tracing his thumb along the underside of Bucky’s chin, and for a moment he is all Bucky cares to look at. So he tugs lightly on Steve’s hair and gives him a blinding smile of his own.

 

“Wow,” Clint drawls. “You two are almost disgusting. If they keep this up, they might give you and me a run for our money, Nat.”

 

“Please,” Bucky snorts, finally tearing his eyes away from Steve. “We gave you a run for your money before we were even a couple.”

 

Clint throws a jellybean at Steve’s face. “Control your stupid boyfriend,” whines Clint. “He’s being incredibly rude to me, his best friend and roommate, and I do not appreciate it so control him.”

 

“I’m his best friend,” Steve says automatically. Bucky hums happily.

 

Natasha’s twirling her wand around her fingers, still looking at the both of them skeptically. “Your his boyfriend,” Natasha corrects. “He has to have a best friend who isn’t his boyfriend. That’s only fair.”

 

“Okay, so who is _your_ best friend if it isn’t Clint?” Bucky shoots back. Natasha throws one of Clint’s jellybeans at Bucky.

 

It’s never been like this before, between the four of them; light and teasing and _warm_. He’s been friends with Natasha and Clint and the rest of them for as long as he’s known Steve, give or take a week or so, and they’ve gone through many stages of their friendships before ending up where they were. But for as close as they’ve all gotten over the six years they’ve co-existed, it’s never been a soft and warm glow that burrows itself in the hollows of Bucky’s heart and lights him from the inside out. It’s like this for the entire train ride, the four of the, catching up and teasing each other, each one of them hopelessly intertwined with another.

 

It’s awkward, him and Steve trying to navigate public displays of affection without breaching the comfort zone of one another. Bucky’s attempt to hold Steve’s hand begins with awkward fumbling and a blush that spreads from the tips of his ears to down his neck. But Steve laughs, and Clint smiles reassuringly at him.

 

They figure it out, the four of them. Steve and Bucky figure out how to act like a couple without the fumbling, Natasha finally relaxes and decides that Steve and Bucky pass her test. They all four figure out how their friendship changes with them being coupled off.

 

For all Bucky expected going in to his final year at Hogwarts, this train ride was not on his mind. Never did he expect that he’d be starting his last year with Steve’s warm hand in his own, with a blooming Quidditch career, with friends who were happy together and happy for him, with a life he was proud of. He thinks back to himself as an eleven year old kid, already more familiar with Hogwarts than any of the seventh years at his time. He wonders if that young kid could ever imagine his life turning out as it has.

 

“Guys,” Bucky says, when the train is slowing down and nearing the station. Three pairs of eyes train on him. “I’m just. I just wanted to say, I’m really glad this is how my year is starting. And I’m really grateful for you guys. Even if you are a pain in my ass.”

 

Steve elbows Bucky’s ribs, Natasha gives him a short smile, and Clint just laughs. “If that’s your form of a compliment, you got a ways to go, buddy.”

 

Bucky just smiles.

 

* * *

 

“Bucky! Hi, Bucky!”

 

“Hey, _Steve_ , did you ever have time to read my thesis on merpeople gender norms!”

 

“Barnes, your last shot in the game against the Cannons? _Mind-blowing_.”

 

“Hi, Bucky, I hope you had a good summer— _holy shit, are Steve and Bucky holding hands_?!”

 

“Steve! _Steve_! Your last rally was _so_ much fun. Are you gonna bring your boyfriend to the next one?”

 

“Sharon, I _swear to Merlin_ they were holding hands. And not in like a friendly way, in a ‘ _I can’t wait to put my hands somewhere else later_ ’ kind of way.”

 

“I’m telling you, I saw this article in a magazine that had pictures of them on a date! It wasn’t photoshopped. It doesn’t _matter_ that it was a trash mag!”

 

“Barnes and Rogers are together? About fucking time.”

 

“Hey, Quill, you owe me ten galleons! I told you they wouldn’t make it one more year.”

 

“ _I knew Bucky totally had the hots for Steve_.”

 

“Okay!” Bucky said loudly, clinging to Steve’s hands and steering him towards the long tables. His entire body was blushing at this point, he was sure. When he sat them down at the table, they were immediately flanked by Sam, Natasha, Clint, and Peggy. He breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“Um,” starts Sam. “Holy shit?”

 

Steve laughs nervously. “I didn’t realize you were so popular, Buck.”

 

A bubbling laugh escapes Peggy. “Steve, sweetheart, it’s just as much you as it is Bucky. Individually, you were already two of the most talked about students in Hogwarts. Bucky, the Quidditch star. Steve, the social justice warrior. The news that the two most well-known boys in the school are together, well. I wouldn’t expect it to die down anytime soon.”

 

Natasha eyes their group warily. “I didn’t realize people were so invested in the lives of two boys who took six years to get their shit together.”

 

Steve blushes, and Bucky tries not to stare. “That’s not—” Steve starts.

 

“Because it took them six years!” pipes in a new voice, and Angie slides gracefully into the seat next to Peggy. “Hello, English. Hello, everyone. Steve, Bucky, I presume a congratulations are in order?”

 

“Not necessary,” Steve begins.

 

Bucky slings an arm over his shoulders. “But appreciated,” he says warmly, winking at Angie. Angie gives him an overdramatic, scandalized look.

 

“Why, Mr. Barnes, you are a taken man!” she cries, leaning on Peggy and fanning herself. “I could _never_.”

 

“Even if you swung that way, you could do a thousand times better than Bucky,” Sam snickers. Bucky makes a noise of complaint when the whole table agrees.

 

He leans in close to Steve. “Be on my side, babe,” he whines.

 

Steve bats him away. “Not if I can help it,” he teases, and Bucky scowls. Steve threads his fingers through Bucky’s and pecks his cheek.

 

Bucky’s blood runs cold.

 

He can feel his heart hammering in his chest; he can feel the heavy weight of Steve’s small hand in his own. No one else seems to be aware of his impending implosion, instead settling in as Fury stands to give his welcoming speech. Of all the things Bucky is aware of around him, nothing is more vivid than the tingling on his cheek, mere centimeters away from his lips, where Steve had kissed him.

 

_Fuck_ , he thinks.

 

“Fuck,” he whispers aloud. Steve turns to look at him, concerned, but Bucky just gives him a tight mouthed smile and shakes his head. The speech is closing out, it’s almost time to dive in to the feast. The last thing Bucky can do right now is have a meltdown because his fake boyfriend planted a kiss on his cheek.

 

_That’s a couple thing, right?_ Bucky panics. _Kissing? Oh, god, we’re gonna have to kiss I can’t kiss Steve things will just get worse oh my god—_

 

“Hey, Buck, looks like they brought back the pumpkin bread this year!”

 

He’s drawn out of his spiraling meltdown by the sound of Steve’s voice. Steve, who has let go of Bucky’s hand now in favor of cutting and serving him a piece of pumpkin bread. Around him, the rest of his friends are shooting him darting, strange looks. But Steve. Steve just serves him pumpkin bread, and moves on.

 

Bucky’s heart swells a little at that.

 

It’s ridiculous, Bucky decides, that every time Steve does something that gives them the image they’re trying to put out there, Bucky falls a bit more deeply for him. He wonders for a fleeting moment if he’ll truly be able to survive eighteen months without breaking his own heart.

 

But then again, he knew going into this that he was going to break his own heart when it ended.

 

“ _Bucky Barnes_!”

 

A second year bundled tightly in a yellow and black scarf comes rushing up to him. Her cheeks are red, from exertion or embarrassment he can’t tell. “Hi, Bucky,” she breathes. She’s clutching a book to her chest. One look at it and Bucky determines that it’s _Quidditch Through The Ages_. He’d given an interview that was featured in it. “Um, my name is Sarah, and, I’m a huge fan of the Ridgebacks, and, my dad told me when I told him I was Sorted into Hufflepuff that the Ridgebacks had picked up a Hufflepuff as their star Catcher, and ever since then I’ve watched every game and I think you’re really awesome.”

 

“Thank you,” Bucky says, touched. He’s gotten many nice compliments since joining the team and becoming more popular, but none like this.

 

Sarah shifts her weight, gaze darting between Bucky and Steve. “And um,” she continues, still fidgeting. “I think you and your boyfriend make a really cute couple. And I think it’s awesome that you guys are together, and thanks for being so supportive of people who like the same gender as them because I might like girls, and, it means a lot to know that my idol would be supportive of that.”

 

Bucky’s slightly overwhelmed at this point, but he hugs Sarah tightly and she squeaks in surprise. “Sarah, you’re a great kid,” he tells her. Steve is beaming brightly down at her. “You’re gonna do great things in life, I can tell. And if you ever need anything, I’d love to help you out, sweetheart.”

 

“ _Thank you_ ,” Sarah breathes. Her eyes are wide and she’s still clutching that damn book to her chest, but she runs off with a skip in her step that Bucky can’t help but be proud of. In his excitement, he presses an enthusiastic kiss to Steve’s cheek and barely registers Steve jolting at the touch.

 

“ _Stevie_ , she loves us!” Bucky whispers. “If we get one of those reactions for every ten of anyone else’s, then I don’t care how much people talk about us.”

 

Everyone else around them is fighting off smiles. “Okay,” Clint announces. “That was the fucking cutest thing I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen puppies eating pizza before. But that, that totally tops everything else.”

 

Natasha’s smile turns warm towards Bucky. “You’re an inspiration to these kids, Bucky. One day you’re going to have an army of excited little Hufflepuffs who all want to be Chasers just like you, and they’re all going to dominate professionally.”

 

Bucky is still grinning from ear to ear.

 

He doesn’t notice how Steve remains quiet for the remainder of the night.

 

* * *

 

Hogwarts is more of a home to Bucky than any other place has ever been. He could walk the entirety of the castle while he was asleep and still not get lost. He knows the best nooks and crannies for escaping bullies, kissing pretty boys and girls, studying in a bind, and for hiding until the teachers passed. He knows that if you asked the bust of Merlin situated next to the Transfiguration classroom how his day was going, the bust would respond with, “The weather is dreadful today; I can’t seem to feel my toes!”.

 

Yes, Bucky knows more about Hogwarts than perhaps he knew about anything else. Except for Steve, of course.

 

Steve was always smaller than the other kids their age. He and Bucky first bonded over that on the train, both of them being incredibly small. The only thing that changed over the years was that Bucky hit his growth spurt and Steve never did. Bucky knows that, while it bothered Steve that he never seemed to grow like the other kids in his grade, he refused to let his size determine his value.

 

Bucky knows that Steve had extremely poor lungs, a heart arrhythmia, and a tendency to catch pneumonia. He knows that Steve’s Muggle mother had reached out to Winifred and had asked for her help, and that the two women managed to brew a special potion that cleared Steve’s asthma almost entirely and another than managed to curb his irregular heartbeat. He also knows that they was working on a potion to help Steve grow a little more, so that he could have a healthier body.

 

He knows that she died before they could finish it, and he knows that Steve destroyed all traces of the potion when she passed away.

 

He knows that Steve’s nose is a little too crooked, not because of the many times he broke it in a fight, but because of the one time he broke his nose diving after a girl who’d fallen off of her broom during Quidditch tryouts. He knows that Steve prefers his hair a little bit longer because he thinks it makes him look less like a twelve year old. He knows that Steve has to order special robes every year, ones that fit him, and he knows that Steve sews on the Slytherin embroidery to every robe he gets.

 

He knows that Steve prefers tea to coffee, that he loves wearing large sweaters, that he loves collecting books. He knows that Steve has more pairs of socks than he has books, and he knows that half of the socks in Steve’s drawer are socks he borrowed from other people and never returned. He knows that Steve’s favorite Muggle book is _The Outsiders_ , and he knows that Steve gets too cold in the Slytherin dormitory during the winter so he brings extra blankets and the elves bring him hot chocolate to keep him warm.

 

He knows that when Steve’s upset he becomes particularly clingy. When he had been pursuing Peggy back in their fifth year, he had latched himself onto Bucky once again when they called it off. He clung to Bucky when his mom died. And he didn’t leave Bucky’s side for two days when his OWLs came late.

 

So he knows, now, when Steve plasters himself to Bucky’s side and falls silent as they walk through the halls towards the dormitories, that something is wrong.

 

He steers Steve into a doorway, places both hands on Steve’s shoulders, and says, “Hey, buddy, you doin’ alright?”

 

Steve’s peering at him through his long eyelashes. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth and Bucky tries not to get distracted by it. “It’s weird,” he admits. “It’s just an adjustment. Everyone is so…supportive of it. And they’re so enthusiastic. I guess I didn’t expect us to actually get that much publicity from this.”

 

Bucky ducks his head. “Yeah,” he laughs, a little breathlessly. “It’s gonna take some getting used to.”

 

In all honesty, Bucky isn’t sure he’ll ever get used to the way people’s shoulders sag when he tells them, when they say _“About time, we knew it would happen eventually.”_ Part of him is panicking uncontrollably, thinking that if it is about time than he’s been wearing his heart too proudly on his sleeve and if everyone else notices, it was just a matter of time before Steve did.

 

And yet, he can’t help but feel relieved that everyone is so okay with their being together. That everyone _wants_ them to be together. It’s something he can’t quite comprehend, but he’s entirely too grateful for it.

 

“I don’t regret deciding to do this, Buck,” Steve is saying, slowly, carefully. “It’s gonna do good things for us, I’m sure. I just. I didn’t expect it to be like this. For it to happen so quickly. My rallies have been successful, sure, but I’ve had people tell me that my relationship with _you_ has helped them more than any dumb rally ever has or will. I wanted to make a difference, but I never thought it would be like this.”

 

It hits Bucky, then, that all of this is a lie. Every person that they are helping, no matter what, is being persuaded by a false relationship. It hits him like a punch to a gut, and he rubs his face with both of his hands. “Shit,” he breathes. “We’re just kids, Stevie. Barely old enough to do magic outside of school. Guess I didn’t think it would be like this either.”

 

Steve laughs a little at that, and a weight lifts off of Bucky’s shoulders. The guilt is still eating at him, he’s still tingling from where Steve had kissed him, and everything is different, but. But Steve is laughing again. He can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him.

 

They both sober up when they hear echoing footsteps down the corridor. By now, it’s late enough that most of the students should be in bed. They keep quiet, hoping to go undiscovered, when Professor Erskine comes to a stop in front of them.

 

“Boys,” he says knowingly.

 

“Professor,” they say back. Bucky realizes what it must look like, the two of them pressed in a small doorway space, both a little breathless. He opens his mouth to defend himself before the words die in his throat.

 

“I’d like to offer my congratulations,” Erskine is saying. “The both of you are very strong individually, but I think that together you will be unstoppable.”

 

“Thank you,” Steve says kindly, slipping his hand into Bucky’s. “This is the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

Erskine nods. “Understandable, Steven. You have had quite a rocky years previously. You do deserve this bit of happiness you seem to have found in Bucky here. Oh, while it is on my mind, Steven, do you mind meeting me tomorrow morning, before classes start? I’d like to talk about an experiment I am looking to invest in.”

 

“Of course, Professor,” Steve says.

 

Erskine turns to Bucky. “As for you, Bucky, I’d like to have a word with you right now. If, of course, it is acceptable.”

 

Bucky glances at Steve, who nods warmly and squeezes his hand again. “Go,” he says, standing on his tip toes to wrap his arms around Bucky’s neck. Automatically, Bucky winds his arms around Steve’s waist and holds him close. They’ve hugged before, even hugs like this, but it feels more intimate some how now. Bucky clings a little bit tighter. When they finally break apart, Steve winks at Bucky and says, “You better find me tomorrow, mister. I ain’t eating breakfast all by my lonesome.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, doll,” Bucky calls after, throwing Steve his most dazzling smile. It’s nothing Steve hasn’t seen time and time again, but he still beams back at Bucky regardless. He looks back at Erskine, who motions for them to stroll down the hall.

 

“Tell me, Bucky,” Erskine chuckles. “How are you and your mother?”

 

Bucky shoves his hands in his pockets. “Ma’s good. She’s been super excited for this year. Spent the entire summer brewing new potions and planning for the year. I’ve never seen her so enthusiastic about it.”

 

Erskine hums thoughtfully. “You know, I was her potions master.”

 

Bucky nods. “She tells me n’ Steve all the time that she thinks Fury is out of his mind for choosing her as potions master over you. But then we tell her, Ma, there ain’t no other place for Professor Erskine than teaching history.”

 

Erskine laughs. “I must confess, I do have a soft spot for history. And you, Bucky? How have you been?”

 

It’s starting to get cold in the hallways of the castle. Bucky kicks uselessly at the ground. “Busy,” he says. “Tired. Always on the go. If it’s not Quidditch stuff, it’s Steve’s stuff. Spent a lot of the summer not at home. Don’t regret a damn second, of course, just. Tired. But I’m doin’ great. Like Stevie said, better than I’ve been for a while.”

 

Erskine slows down his pace until he’s stopped in front of a painting. Bucky’s surprised to find themselves in front of the Hufflepuff dormitory entrance. “I have a confession,” Erskine tells Bucky. “It was a belief of mine that you and Steven would one day begin a relationship. It was my speculation for quite some time. Of course, I like to be certain about things. So I went to Professor Heimdall.”

 

“The Divinations professor?” Bucky laughs nervously. His entire stomach is filled with lead. Heimdall was once mocked for his classes, once believed to be a fraud. Now, he was regarded as one of the most accurate psychics the world had seen in years. Heimdall got nothing wrong.

 

Erskine is nodding. “Yes,” he murmurs. “As Professor Heimdall does, he was very…evasive with my question. Eventually I learned that yes, you and Steven would fall in love, and it would be in an entirely unintentional way.”

 

Bucky can’t stop the hysteric laugh that bursts through his lips. Either Heimdall doesn’t see the whole truth of the situation, or he’s protecting Bucky and lying to Erskine. No matter what, Bucky is incredibly grateful. “Well, Steve and I never imagined we’d be the traditional types,” he laughs. Erskine gives him a warm smile.

 

“Steven is good for you,” He says decisively. “You balance each other out. I think that no matter what the outcome of your love story is, you are both better off having gotten together.”

 

Bucky ducks his head, trying fruitlessly to hide his blush. “I appreciate it, Professor,” he says kindly. “It means a lot to me, and to Steve too, I’m sure, that we got your support. It’s been…It’s been an interesting two weeks for the both of us.”

 

“The best stories always have interesting beginnings,” Erskine laughs. “Well, young man, I believe it is quite late, and the seventh years have quite an early start tomorrow. Not to mention, you have a boy to meet for breakfast.”

 

“Yeah, I do,” Bucky says. He’s smiling like a fool.

 

* * *

 

The thing about the final year at Hogwarts is that the majority of it is spent trying to prepare the students for entry into the real world. Classes are picked on a more direct level, applying to fields of interest. Professors connect with students and help them make connections with out of school jobs and internships. Everyone is focused on graduating and starting out in the work force the second they can, and every second of their final year is spent dedicated to pursuing their future path.

 

The problem is, Bucky has _no fucking clue_ what his future path is.

 

His entire life until this point has been Quidditch and Steve. Steve, he knows, he’s keeping for at _least_ another eighteen months. Forever, if their arrangement doesn’t ruin their friendship. Quidditch, he knows, he’ll have a steady career in for at least a few more years. Assuming he doesn’t get hurt. Or replaced. Or killed.

 

Outside of that, he has no clue what his future holds.

  
Steve, of course, wants to work in the Ministry. He’s an advocate for social justice, a rally leader, a political genius. He’ll become the youngest Minister of Magic, Bucky is sure. Steve’s known what he’s wanted to do since he was eleven years old. All Bucky wants to do is play Quidditch and hold Steve’s hands forever.

 

_Pathetic,_ he berates himself.

 

Natsha, Clint, and Peggy all want to become Aurors. Peggy was approached by an Auror at the end of their sixth year, and since then has been organizing a special task force that will be formed after graduation to battle against the Dark Wizards. Sam wants to spend a few years in Muggle college, with his boyfriend Riley, before deciding where he wants to go. The Howlies are enlisting, joining the battle against the Dark Wizards and planning to kick evil’s ass. Angie got accepted into a prestigious acting company and leaves the day after graduation.

 

“What do _you_ want to do, Bucky?”

 

He freezes. All of his friends are looking at him, all of their faces open and excited and expectant. All he can say is, “Um.”

 

But then Steve says, “Hey, Wanda, Scott, come join us! We’re talking career paths, do you guys know what you want to do?”

 

And Bucky is so grateful he could kiss Steve.

 

(He could kiss Steve for a lot of reasons.)

 

(He never does.)

 

Later, when Steve asks him about it, Bucky breaks down.

 

“I have no fucking clue, Stevie,” he admits. “I got no clue what I want to do outside of Quidditch. It’s been my life for so damn long, I don’t wanna think about it ending, let alone having to do something else. I know I gotta pick a path, but. All I really want to do is play Quidditch. That’s all I got.”

 

Steve gives Bucky a small smile. “You’re an idiot sometimes, Barnes,” he says. “You ain’t gotta do nothing you don’t wanna do. If you just wanna play Quidditch, then do it. When your professional career ends, keep playing. Teach little league. Teach here. Coach a professional team. It doesn’t have to end just because you aren’t the one scoring the goals anymore.”

 

Bucky blinks. “Steve, you’re a goddamn genius,” he breathes. Steve laughs and throws a pillow at Bucky’s head.

 

“Nah, you’re just dumb,” Steve tells him. “You got the brawn, I got the brains. It’s why we make such a damn good couple. Everyone says so.”

 

“Damn right they do,” Bucky agrees. “We’re fucking adorable.”

 

Steve grins at him. “Hey, Buck?” he asks. “You’re still okay with this, right? Cause if I ever push a boundary you ain’t alright with, you just gotta say so and I’ll back off. I don’t want to do this if you aren’t cool with it.”

 

“I’m good,” Bucky says, maybe a bit to hastily. He _is_ good. He doesn’t want to give this up, this new development in their relationship. They’re closer, now, than they’ve been previously. He doesn’t want to lose that. “I swear, doll, I’m good. This is. It’s what we agreed on, right? I ain’t backing out. If you want out, then you can get the hell out and I won’t say nothing.”

 

Steve shakes his head. “I’m good,” he echoes.

 

_We’re good_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HATE THIS CHAPTER OKAY.
> 
> I swear, I promise, next chapter will be up within a week.
> 
> (i am a creature who lives off of comments feed me)

**Author's Note:**

> (i am not a human being i am a creature that thrives off of comments and kudos pls feed me)
> 
> I plan on updating at least once a week. Feel free to yell at me if I slack off.


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